Untitled
by capsiclerogers
Summary: James is accused of the murder of his friend, and Kendall is sent undercover to get the evidence. It should've been a simple task, but Kendall just had to go and fall in love with him. Kames! Rated T, but could go up.
1. Prologue

__**Hi guys. I know I haven't been good with updating, but I promise I'm still trying very hard!  
>I wrote part of a chapter for <em>Temptations<em> but it's really long (like 5 pages and unfinished) and I don't like how it's doing bleah. I'm literally just brain dead for everything else.  
>This is a new story I've been working on. I wanted to try this out, so this is my short prologue! I haven't written the rest of the story, but I have an outline so far of Chapters 1 (after this) all the way to Chapter 11. So enjoy!<strong>

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><p><em>"Hello?"<em>

James inhaled sharply, holding back his sobs to talk into his phone, one hand tightly gripped on his steering wheel.

"Can I come over?"

_"James? Are you okay? What happened?"_

Although his friend couldn't see him over the phone, he shook his head, letting tears squeeze out of his eyes.

"I got into another fight with my parents… I hate them."

_"Again? It's been like the tenth time this week alone!"_

"I know," James sniffed. "I'm almost at your house. I'll tell you later."

_"Sure. I'll wait outside."_

There was a small click on the other end of the line, so James removed the phone from his ear and threw it aside onto the passenger seat. He moved his right hand to the steering wheel, still holding it with a vice-like grip. He was shaking with convulsions out of pure anger, and he couldn't stop his tears.

_I hate my parents_, he thought, getting madder by the second. _They think they control my life when they weren't even a part of it. They don't even care about me, only themselves. They're selfish. Everything they do is about them. Fuck them. _

He turned the corner as his tears blurred his vision, but he was too mad at everything to even wipe them away. James squeezed the wheel even tighter, his thoughts clouding his mind and continuing to heighten his fury, and stepped on the acceleration pedal. Suddenly, his right hand tightened so much that he pulled the wheel right and swerved to the side. This jolted him awake and focused his eyes on the road again, only to notice a figure standing front of his car. He moved to slam on his breaks, but it was far too late. The man had been knocked down by a vehicle going 30 MPH over the speed limit. James froze with fear and shock, sitting in his seat for two seconds. He unbuckled his seatbelt and ran out of his car, kneeling beside the lifeless body. His heartbeat was thumping at the speed of light and he choked out a cry.

"No, no, no," he muttered, standing up and gripping his dark brown locks. "Please, no."

He knew for a fact the man was dead, and there was nothing he could do. He ran back into his car and sped off, fleeing from his responsibilities. He kept telling himself that maybe he wasn't dead. Maybe he was still alive, and he should just call the ambulance. But he would just push all those thoughts aside. _The poor guy was dead_, he thought. _All because of me. I killed my best friend._

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><p><strong>Kendall will be introduced shortly, in chapter 2.<br>Thoughts? Should I continue with this? :)  
>If you guys don't like this, I don't want to focus on this story. <strong>


	2. Stitch Me Up

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I'm actually glad people like this.**

**I am very meh about this chapter, mostly because I feel it's inaccurate.  
>I am really unfamiliar with how this shit works, so just don't expect accuracy lol.<br>Without any further ado, here's Chapter 1!**

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><p>James was so scared he couldn't even think. There was literally nothing racing through his mind; he was that glacial with fear. He was pulled out of class that morning by a cop and placed here in this detention center. He knew they knew. He was going to rot and die in jail. The door flung open, startling the brunette sitting across the door. An officer with a thick burly mustache sat down in the seat across from James, an autopsy file in his hands.<p>

"Morning, Officer," James greeted.

"Good morning, Mr. Diamond. I'm Officer Wells. I've brought you in for questioning."

"Q-questioning? For what?"

"A murder, son. You're suspected for killing Dak Zevon, a fellow classmate."

Officer Wells looked up from the papers and directly at James, which made him all sorts of uncomfortable.

"I'm familiar with him, yes. He's my friend."

The cop raised his eyebrows and leaned back.

"And you knew about this murder, correct?"

James gulped and nodded, looking down at his hands that were folded in front of him.

"Well, he was killed at approximately 10:38 pm," Officer Wells explained in a gruff voice, flipping through the pages. "And it seems that you had called him at 10:35, just three minutes before his death. Taking this information into consideration, it only makes sense that you two were planning to meet up, correct?"

"I called him about homework," James lied. "I-I was asking him about math homework, but he told me that he w-wasn't currently at home."

The policeman squinted at James, as if trying to detect if he was lying or not. James shifted his weight on the metal chair as he stared at the door. He needed to get out before he passed out.

"But he was killed right outside his house."

"Y-yeah he said he was almost home and h-he'd call me back," James stammered out, a bead of sweat trickling down his face. It was getting harder to breathe.

"His parents were home when this happened, and they said that they were home all night. Dak had left the house after picking up his phone."

"I-I don't know, I—maybe he needed fresh air, I—"

James began to hyperventilate, gripping the armrests on the chair tightly until his knuckles turned white. Tears were threatening to spill as the police stared at him with slight concern, only adding more pressure onto James' shoulders.

The officer sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table that divided him and James' shaking body.

"James, I'm giving you a chance to explain what happened, so if you're hiding anything—"

"I'm not hiding anything!" James suddenly cried, no longer capable of choking back his sobs. "Dak was my best friend, Officer. I loved him more than anything in the world! Don't sit here and tell me that I killed him. _What possible motive would I have had?_"

He lifted his hands up to cup his face, not even bothering to keep quiet. He heard the door squeak open and click shut, leaving him alone in the room again. A few minutes later, Officer Wells returned into the room.

"Alright, could you talk a bit about how Dak interacted with peers?"

James nodded, biting his lip.

"He was a kind person; charming, charismatic, funny. Anyway, he was gay, and faced a lot of homophobia, especially from fellow athletes. He almost got kicked off of the wrestling team and football team for liking boys, but technically, the school wasn't allowed to. Just because he got to stay on, it didn't mean his teammates took it well. Long story short, he dealt with a lot of hate."

"So there _are_ people who possibly have motives to kill Dak?"

"Yeah," James said under his breath. "In particular Jett Stetson. He hated Dak."

Under the table, he clutched his stomach as it began to turn. A sickening feeling started to grow. First he was lying about not killing Dak. Now he's trying to shift the murder onto someone else? James grimaced as he stared down at the table, flinching at the sound of the police scribbling down notes of what he said about Jett, the football team, and wrestling team.

"You can go, Mr. Diamond. Thanks for your cooperation. Officer Burns will be accompanying you back home."

James speedily got out of his seat, wiping his nose and face. He didn't say anything more, or make eye contact with the stout man who was previously interrogating him.

"Not so fast kid," the cop said, holding his hand out like a stop sign. "Now I'm giving you one last chance to confess. If you confess to the crime now, there will be no additional consequences. Think about this carefully."

He looked at James intently, staring him down. James quickly shook his head. Officer Wells sighed and side-stepped, letting the teenager pass. James practically ran out of there and followed Officer Burns to the police car. The entire car ride back to his home was awkward. He sat in the back seat, where all the criminals sat after their arrest, and Officer Burns kept giving James the stink-eye in the mirror, as if James was a serial killer or something. The only thing he could do was to look outside and pretend he wasn't crying and wondering when this torture was going to end. After what felt like hours, they arrived at the Diamond estate. The police rolled down the car window and reached to press the doorbell. The large metal gate creaked open, allowing the cop car to drive onto the driveway and near the porch of the actual mansion.

The mansion was pure white with gold detailing on the door and windows. It looked regal and grand, like someone important lived there. It wasn't entirely untrue though considering his mother, Brooke Diamond, was the founder of the successful cosmetic line, Diamond Cosmetics, widely used by celebrities all over the world. His father, Richard Diamond, was a patent lawyer who averaged a $1k salary per hour, and worked 50-70 hours a week. That being said, they both weren't home very often. James was actually a little surprised they _were_ home.

The car came to a stop, and Officer Burns turned off the engine. He got out of the driver's seat and opened the rear door, assisting James out of the car. James followed the policeman into the already opened entrance and closed the heavy door behind them. His parents were sitting on the white leather couch, sipping on tea. They didn't look all that happy when they gestured for the two to sit down across from them. James quickly wiped away a few tears before taking a seat.

"Can someone please explain what is going on?" Brooke asked, setting down her ceramic cup of tea with a tiny clink.

"Please," his father added.

"Well, Mr. and Mrs. Diamond, your son James was brought into questioning under suspicion of killing Dak Zevon."

Richard coughed on his tea and put it down on the table as fast as he could.

"_Killing_ Dak? What—when did this happen?"

"Last night at around 10:40. He was hit by a car and killed immediately by impact—"

"I'm sorry, I fail to understand how _this_ has anything to do with my son," Brooke interrupted, sounding impatient. "There must be some mistake, if you're accusing James of murdering _anybody_. Dak Zevon is my son's friend. This is ridiculous. What's your 'evidence' anyhow?"

"Our _indecisive_ evidence is that your son called Dak merely _three minutes _before his death, which don't you think is suspicious? So I've come to ask you two a few questions."

"You're basing this off of a _phone call_?"

Officer Burns turned to James.

"I need to talk to your parents alone, young man."

"Okay…"

James stood up from his seat and walked up the stairs and into his room, only hearing the low hums and murmurs of the adults conversing. He pushed his bedroom door open and fell onto his bed, feeling overwhelmed. He finally let the crying he had held back in front of his parents out, drenching his pillow with his tears. He felt numb and dizzy to the point where it felt like he wasn't even himself anymore, watching his life outside of his body. Reality seemed more like an insane nightmare he just couldn't wake up from; it was just _that_ hard to fathom. James never felt this before, having waves of guilt continuously hitting him in the stomach, creating a constant nauseating feeling. He had thrown up several times in the night and early morning, but nothing seemed to rid himself of this nasty sensation. He hasn't slept, eaten, or stopped crying ever since the incident, except when he went to the police station.

After a while, there was a knock on his door and he lifted his heavy head up, squinting through his tears. The door opened anyway and his parents walked in with furious faces.

"Did you do it?" Richard asked, voice low and threatening.

"No," James tried, but his voice cracked. He resorted to shaking his head.

"How could you even let this happen?" his mother finally snapped, pulling James' shoulder so he was sitting upright and facing her. "Do you know what would happen if this story ever gets out? That my son was _accused_ of killing his friend?"

James swallowed thickly and stared at his mother, dumbfounded. _That_ was what she was worried about?

"I lose business; your dad loses business; God damn it, James David Diamond, are you even paying attention?"

Truth was he wasn't. On top of his immense guilt and despondency, he was beyond furious. He was feeling so many intense emotions at the moment he couldn't decide on how to react without giving himself a heart attack. His own parents weren't concerned about how their son was doing after _losing_ his best friend; no, they were only worried about how this would affect them. Of course.

"And how are we supposed to show our faces in church, James?" Brooke continued on. "We're going to get kicked out and it'll be all your—"

Richard held a hand out and placed it on his seething wife's shoulder, shutting her up.

"That's enough, honey, he gets it. Yelling at him isn't going to fix things, so let's try to make sure this story remains covered, alright? We can fix things before James ruins them."

Brooke takes a deep breath, closing her heavily-lined eyes, and reopens them. She sends James a stern look and walks out of the room, heels clacking as they come in contact with the floor. Richard looked weary and disappointed as he left the room. James stomped over to his door and slammed it. He wanted to just sleep forever, and run away from reality, although he knew he couldn't. He kicked over his chair in anger and began to sob. His knees buckled and he slid down along the wall, ending up squatting in the corner of his room as he cried into his hands and knees. He had never felt so alone before. His parents didn't give a damn about him, his brother was exiled from the house for a long list of reasons, and his only friend was dead because of him.

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><p><strong>So I hope it wasn't <em>too<em> unbelievable...  
>I'm introducing Kendall in the next chapter, so I think that will go better.<br>In the process of writing it actually! :)**

**I love you guys, and reviews are appreciated and motivating hehe. :D  
>I'm excited for Kendall~~~~~. <strong>


	3. C'mon

**So originally, this chapter was going to be _much_ longer, but I didn't like how it flowed. And so I deleted the first half, basically, and now it's incredibly short.  
>However, I didn't want to combine this and Chapter 3 because I planned all the chapters and I didn't want to stray from that...<br>So sorry, this actually didn't turn out the way that I had originally hoped. I hope it's not completely horrible hahaha...**

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><p>Kendall had been waiting for this day. This was his big test that could determine his career <em>or<em> ruin it, depending on how it went. Although at a tender age of twenty, he had always aspired to be a policeman. Of course, not the ordinary policeman who raced down the roads chasing after some dude who went ten over the speed limit. No, he wanted something more exciting. Going undercover and exposing the truth was what he lived for; he wanted to put criminals into their places. He swished his hair one last time before walking out of the bathroom of Duluth High. He graduated two years ago at a school nearby, and so it felt weird to be back walking down the halls of high school once again.

He ran the plans over and over again in his head. _Show teacher the slip Chief handed out to me. Find brunette suspect. Befriend him. Find truth. Expose._ Easy peasy, lemon squeezy. He took a deep breath before pushing open the door of Room 203 and stepping inside the classroom. Everyone stopped their lab experiments to turn their heads toward the undercover cop, an uncomfortable silence consuming the room.

"Stop staring, and continue your labs please," the teacher at the front ordered, approaching Kendall.

Kendall handed him the slip that he was supposed to give, and received a nod from the teacher.

"Class," he announced, turning towards the students, "this is our new student, Kendall Knight. Please give him a warm Duluth welcome."

There was a sparse, scattered applause that soon died down and then everyone returned back to their tasks at hand.

"James Diamond is over there," he whispered, pointing to the sulking teen in the corner of the room. "You can be his lab partner."

"Thanks."

Kendall went over to the corner and dropped his backpack down on the ground.

"Hey," he greeted.

James looked up at the unfamiliar face solemnly, and forced a smile.

"Hey."

Kendall took a seat across from him.

"I'm Kendall, and you look upset."

"I'm James, and I'm fine."

James took a deep breath and his face relaxed. His shoulders dropped a little and he genuinely attempted to smile. He handed Kendall the lab sheet and briefly explained the lab procedures. Kendall wasn't paying attention though because a) he's done with school and b) James was _really_ quite cute.

"So do you want to do it, or should I?"

Kendall blinked, snapping himself back to reality. He noticed James giving him an odd look and holding up a beaker filled with suspicious substance to his face.

"Oh, sorry, sure," Kendall mumbled, taking the beaker from James' hand. "What do I do again?"

James chuckled lightly and directed him to pour the liquid into the blue liquid. The mixture quickly turned purple, exuding an exaggerated yawn from the pretty boy.

"This shit is so boring," he sighed, scribbling down his observations. "If Mr. Cooper doesn't want us to sleep in class, then he should try giving us something exciting to do."

Kendall laughed, scooting closer to his new lab partner.

"So hey, is it okay if I stick around you today? I'm kind of new to this town," Kendall requested, pouring the next beaker into another. It turned orange.

James picked up his pencil again and began recording.

"Sure," he answered. "What classes do you have?"

Kendall took out his crumpled schedule and smoothed it out.

"First period chemistry, second period math, third period literature, fourth period history, and fifth period music," he read.

James' face lit up and he turned to Kendall.

"Hey, we're in the same history and music classes! How cool is that?"

"Very cool," Kendall remarked with a smirk.

James turned back to continue the experiment while the cop just stared at James. He didn't seem like he'd hurt a fly. But he obviously seemed trouble. He had dark circles under his eyes, as if he went through sleepless nights, he was very stiff, and he seemed reluctant to smile.

James suddenly side-glanced at Kendall and raised an eyebrow.

"Are you staring at me, Blondie?"

"W-what? N-no!"

"Hey relax," James smiled the best he could, putting a hand on the blonde's shoulder. "I was joking."

Kendall let out a relieved sigh and rolled his eyes.

"That was mean."

James' grin grew wider and visibly relaxed at Kendall's reaction, and let out an amused laugh. The bell rang, ending first period, and they both got up to clean the beakers.

"Hey, don't worry about the beakers; I'll clean them," James offered.

"What? No, I'm not going to make you clean them!"

"You're new, and I don't want you to be late to your classes. Makes a bad first impression, you know?"

Kendall scrunched his eyebrows, initially confused. He wasn't even going to stay during second and third period since he only had to attend the classes that he and James shared. But he quickly remembered he was supposed to act like a real student.

"Oh, right, thanks James," Kendall said, getting his backpack.

As he left the room, he turned back to see James rinsing the beaker, the same sullen composure he once was in before Kendall had joined his table. Kendall grimaced at the sight of this and sighed. He reminded himself that he had to be professional about this, and hold back any emotions.

_This is going to be harder than I thought_…

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><p><strong>Meh, I'm getting worse and worse at starting up stories.<br>****_But_ next chapter, things actually start to happen so it's not just introductions and shit like that.  
>Kendall and James go get ice cream~. How exciting. :3<br>Reviews are appreciated. :)**


	4. Out on the Town

**I'm actually swamped with school right now, but I stayed up til 3:30 am yesterday writing this.  
><strong>**...And not studying whoops. I'm pretty sure I just failed my Chinese test. Ha. The things I don't do for school sigh~.  
>But my Boo Sum1cooler's reviews are always so motivating so I couldn't wait any longer! <strong>

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><p>"So, are you doing anything this afternoon?" Kendall asked as he stuffed the last of his school material into his backpack.<p>

"Nah, it's second semester," James replied, swinging his backpack onto his shoulder. "Why?"

"Just hoping someone could show me around town, or I don't know, do homework with," Kendall shrugged.

"It's second semester," he repeated. "What homework?"

Kendall laughed and pushed James, forcing the taller brunette to crack a smile.

"I'm just kidding," James chuckled quietly. "But, um, if we could not go to my house. I'm not really in the best relationship with either of my parents right now, considering we just got into a huge fight two nights ago that ended up with me stomping out of the house. Then yesterday, I—um, just anyway. We don't get along well, and I just don't want to be in that house right now, regardless of whether they're home or not."

_Interesting. A bad family relationship. _Kendall nods understandingly. Although James stopped himself before delving deeper into the topic, this proved that he wasn't at home during the murder of Dak.

"That's alright. Know any good ice cream place or something?"

James nodded.

"There's a local ice cream shop that's _really_ good. They sell over thirty flavors of ice cream, and they're all ridiculously good."

Kendall smiled and chirped, "Yeah, okay, that sounds good! Do you want to drive, since you know where it is?"

At this, James visibly stiffened and his facial expression almost looked _panicked_. Kendall furrowed his eyebrows and gently reached to lay a hand on his shoulder, startling a lost-in-thought James.

"Oh, um, I didn't drive my car to school today."

"That's fine, I'll let you drive mine as long as you have your license with you," Kendall suggested.

"No," he almost immediately refuted. "Uh, I'll just give you directions."

"Well, okay, I guess. I'll drive then."

James' shoulders dropped and he exhaled a breath, his body now much more relaxed than it was seconds ago. Kendall points to the door, silently proposing that they leave now, and James follows him out of the school and into the parking lot to search for the blonde's car. They find the black truck that the precinct had lent Kendall and they climb into it, hitting the road soon after.

"Turn right," James directed to which Kendall obliged to. "So where are you from anyway?"

"I'm from Nebraska," Kendall answered, which wasn't _entirely_ false. He was born in Wichita.

"Cool, what's it like there?"

"Definitely not as fun as Minnesota."

James threw his hands up in the air lamely, a sarcastic gesture.

"Whoo, yeah, Minnesota _sure _is a party," he deadpanned.

Kendall giggled at the brunette's tone.

"Left."

Kendall turned left and he immediately saw the cutest ice cream shop on his right. It had a retro feel, kind of like a '50s ice cream shop, and just outside the door was a large moving ice cream with eyes mascot erected. He parked curbside and they got out of the pickup, entering the small shop by the name of _Murphy's Ice Cream Bar_. Even the name was cute.

"Whoa," Kendall breathed as soon as the noticed the jukebox sitting in the far corner. There was also a counter with a bunch of round stools beside it, and multiple booths against the wall with leather seats and fun, light teal tables. How had he not known this place after living in Minnesota for practically all his life?

"Pretty sweet, huh?" James commented, pulling Kendall out of his enthrallment with the décor.

"_Really_ sweet," Kendall gasped.

James led Kendall to a small booth, and a waiter dressed in a white dress shirt with a pink bowtie brought them their menus.

"So, James, tell me about yourself."

James took this time to think for a moment. He wasn't exactly used to anyone asking him about his interests.

"Well, I was born here in Duluth," he began to list. "I enjoy singing and playing the piano—music's actually my passion."

"Really? I actually sing and play the guitar too."

"Speaking of which, we're having a project in music class soon. Want to be partners?" James asked.

"Definitely."

The waiter came back to take their orders. Kendall ordered cookies and cream ice cream, and James ordered their special house sundae. The waiter tapped the paper with his pen, signaling that he was done, and promptly left.

"What about you?" James inquired. "Tell me about yourself."

"I'm from Wichita, like I mentioned earlier. I love cats and alpacas, but not when they're together."

James let out a small laugh.

"Cats and alpacas?"

Kendall nods and joins in on the laughter.

"Yes, don't judge me. You wanted to know more about me!"

"I meant the normal stuff, Kendall, not the weird shit," James joked.

"This is as normal as I get, James. You sure you can handle all of this?"

He made a motion down his entire body, quirking an eyebrow at the amused boy across from him.

"Oh, I'm not so sure anymore. I _thought_ I could do this; maybe I was wrong."

Kendall and James were shaking with quiet laughter when the waiter returned with two ice creams on his black circular tray. After a quick exchange of 'thank you' and 'you're welcome,' the two were left alone again with their big bowls of ice cream.

"This is really good," Kendall marveled with his mouth full after stuffing a massive spoonful of his ice cream.

"I know, right? I used to hang here _all_ the time with D—"

James abruptly stopped midsentence, a glassy look in his eyes as he fought to find something else to say.

"Who?" Kendall pried, watching him expectantly.

"M-my dad," James finally said, dropping his eyes down to the ice cream and taking a bite out of it.

The blonde only nodded and moved onto another topic. Before they knew it, it was almost five thirty, and it was best for them to return to their respective homes. They fought for the paycheck, but James reached the bill a nanosecond faster than Kendall, and paid for both of them. Kendall wouldn't stop insisting that it was unnecessary and he was going to pay next time for sure. James just told him to shut up.

"For the love of all that is holy, please shut the hell up," James sighed.

The car rolled to a stop in front of a large driveway complete with a towering gate and a security camera.

"I'm not going to shut up, James. I could've paid for myself."

"I know that, but you're new and you drove me around. It's the least I could do."

James opened the car door and stepped out.

"Alright, fine, but don't think I'm letting this go."

As the door of the truck swung shut, the window rolled down.

"Do you hear me, Diamond?"

James flashed a thumbs-up.

"Got it, Knight. See you tomorrow," James smiled, leaning on the side of the truck.

"Bye, James. Thanks for showing me around. It was a lot of fun."

James nodded, suddenly a little distant, as if reminiscing about the afternoon with the corner of his lips curled upward.

"Yeah… I guess it was."

He blinked a couple of times before he looked back up at Kendall.

"Well, I'll see you."

James entered a pin in the security system, momentarily disarming the alarms and unlocking the heavy gate. He pushed the gate open and slipped through. He heard the sound of Kendall's car engine revving and wheels squealing as the automobile rolled out into the streets. Taking one last glance behind him, he bit his lip as he attempted to fight a smile that was beginning to play on his lips. He continued trudging up the long driveway to his currently empty house, replaying the highlights of his miniature ice cream hangout with Kendall.

The way the blonde laughed was so infectious and adorable, automatically turning anything unfunny into the funniest thing the world has ever heard. His captivating green eyes could pierce through anyone's soul, and his eyebrows—man, they were like tiny caterpillars that would look completely ridiculous on everyone else, yet for some reason, it worked for Kendall.

When he reached his room, he flung himself on the bed and grabbed his pillow, muffling it over his face as he squealed like a fan girl. How could anyone make him feel this way after literally just a day? It was crazy, the kind of effect Kendall had over the brunette.

It wasn't until James laid there thinking hard that he was cognizant of the fact he had only thought of Dak once during the entire span of the afternoon. And the insane part was that the one time he _did, _he threw the depressing thoughts out just as quickly. All because of Kendall.

He sighed stared at the ceiling. Now that he was alone again, he could feel the intense emotions overwhelming him, the ones that were tossed aside and forgotten for a majority of the afternoon.

"I'm a bad person," he moaned to himself, closing his eyes in frustration.

It has been two days since Dak's death, and he was just out on the town enjoying a cute boy's company. James didn't deserve all of that; he didn't deserve to be happy at all. He deserved to drown in his guilt and sorrows.

His hazel eyes stung as tears began to well up at the brim, and he wiped them away.

_I'm such a horrible, terrible person. How could I do this to Dak?_

_How could I do this to my boyfriend?_

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><p><strong>Lol is anyone even surprised that Dak was James' boyfriend? No? Okay.<br>So now he's faced with _two_ majors factors that are contributing to his guilt. :D**

**What did you guys think?**


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